


first impressions can be deceiving (but not this time)

by notavodkashot



Series: FFXV one shots [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Awkward Flirting, First Meetings, Injured Flirting, M/M, Nyx has no sense of timing whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 23:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13511703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notavodkashot/pseuds/notavodkashot
Summary: Prompto meets Nyx, poisoned and confused, in the field. It's... not as bad as it could be.





	first impressions can be deceiving (but not this time)

Prompto thinks about the briefing before the mission, holding Nyx’s bulk to his side and trying in vain to remember how the hell things had gone so poorly in the first place. Nyx is very willing in the hold, his bulk - considerably more than Prompto’s despite two solid years of training under the Marshal - sprawled over Prompto like an overgrown cat, in that liquid-like quality of theirs that allows them to fit anywhere, anytime. He’s also muttering ridiculous praise into the back of Prompto’s ear, which is fine, really. It’s all good.

Against my better judgment, Cor had told him, in that crisp, no-nonsense tone of his, looking down his nose at Prompto quite literally, but not figuratively, purely because Prompto is small and unassuming and that’s exactly why he’s been trained to do what he does. He didn’t understand why it’d be against the Marshal’s judgment to lend him out to the Kingsglaive. He was always lent out to the Kingsglaive and it was always fun up until it wasn’t and then it was terrible and made Prompto buy another big, plushy stuffed chocobo to continue to fill up his bed so he could properly bury himself beneath them and pretend he wasn’t falling to pieces from the stress.

He’d chosen this job, he didn’t get to complain about it.

“What are you doing on Saturday?” Nyx asks him, voice light and… and… weird, almost breathy.

He’s poisoned and confused, which is about the worst possible thing one can be, on the field - and outside it, Prompto knows first hand - but he’s weirdly coherent even when he really shouldn’t be. The only thing that comes to mind is thorough exposure to that kind of toxin and the thought sits… off, in Prompto’s gut.

“Not dying,” Prompto replies on reflex, adjusting Nyx’s hands around his waist and pulling out the sniper rifle as he judges their height enough to be a good vantage point.

“That’s cool,” Nyx replies, settling his arms around Prompto’s waist, and bowing his head until his cheek is resting against Prompto’s back. “Wanna not-die together then?”

Prompto doesn’t miss the shot. He doesn’t. He hits the exact four inch window and takes out the man inside the monstrous MT armor stomping about. All MT armors have autopilot controls, of course, and the Kingsglaive will have to deal with that… but autopilot is a lot less nuance than a real human.

“Could take you out for food,” Nyx goes on, “while we’re not dying. It’s a shitty joint but the food is  _great_.”

“Mhm,” Prompto replies, swallowing down another perfect screech in the back of his throat, because he’s on the job, and the only thing he’s learned, really, is to not freak out until after the fight is over. Boom, headshot.

“You’re really, really  _pretty_ , did you know what?” Nyx asks him, giving him the goofiest grin in the world, one that not even Prompto could doubt was somehow caused by the ridiculous cocktail of drugs currently in his system.

He needs med-evac, and soon, but Prompto needs to finish leaving presents for the Nilfs down the hallways as they go. Nyx hooks an arm on Prompto’s shoulders when they start moving and they somehow manage not to trip as they go.

 _Against my better judgment_ , the Marshal told him, during the mission briefing. Prompto remembers the words somewhat clearly as he finally dumps Nyx into the care of people who are paid to deal with dumb soldiers doing even dumber things, and wonders if he could maybe get away with not including the details about Nyx’s little tirades into his report. He has a feeling the answer is going to be no.

…he’s still surprised as hell to have Nyx Ulric show up on his doorstep next Saturday, though. Doubly so after he’s done freaking out and running in panicked circles inside his head, because Nyx takes him out to the shittiest joint and buys him the best food. And no one dies, which is super important in Prompto’s personal ranking of dates, which is officially now a thing, since he’s gone on at least one date.

“See you next week?” Nyx asks him, at the end of the date, grinning wryly.

Prompto makes a mental note to gather all his aplomb and maybe beg the Marshal to let him redact Nyx’s tirade from his report.

“Sounds good, yeah!”

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out on [DW](https://notavodkashot.dreamwidth.org/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/notavodkashot), if you'd like.


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